


Happy Endings

by sweetondean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Drabble, Fairy Tale Elements, Fantasy, Fun, Gen, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Silly, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:22:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23733028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetondean/pseuds/sweetondean
Summary: Dean gets a surprise in the middle of the night
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Happy Endings

**Author's Note:**

> This story started as a prompt from my writing group, that I couldn't help but rework for Dean <3

A thumping sound jolted Dean awake. He lay in the darkness, listening, his hand resting on his Colt 911. Sam was at Jody’s on an assist; a minor plumbing emergency that Sam volunteered to help with, and which Dean was happy to let him tackle alone. Cas and Jack were on a case, practicing their hunting skills. Which meant Dean was in the bunker by himself. At least so he thought.

Silently he swung his legs out of bed, and holding his breath, listened again. Another thud. It sounded like it was coming from the library. He grabbed a pair of jeans and shimmied into the well-worn Levi’s, while simultaneously picking a t-shirt up off the floor, and pulling it over his head. Padding softly to the door in his socked feet, he stopped and slid a knife into his belt, turned on his torch, and stepped into the hall.

With his torchlight bouncing along the tiles, Dean quickly and soundlessly made his way through the bunker. He stopped outside the library door, carefully cocked his pistol and taking a deep breath, slipped inside the room and flicked on the lights.

“Oh!” came a voice to his left.

Dean swung around; gun raised. Standing before him, in a gown of pale blue satin and clouds of silver tulle, was a woman. She was startlingly beautiful, with brilliant, amber eyes, and soft, golden ringlets that bounced around her face. In her hand was an ivy wrapped twig, with a large sunflower on the end, and to top off the bizarre image, Dean swore the woman was twinkling.

“Ma’am?” Dean said, as calmly as possible, Colt at the ready, “Is there a reason you’re in my library at two in the morning?”

The woman blinked. “I don’t suppose you were wanting to go to a ball?”

“Excuse me?”

“A ball?”

“Ma'am, the only kind of ball I know anything about, is a football.”

“Oh dear. I think I made a wrong turn,” the woman said, as she waved her twig above her head. An explosion of stars burst from the sunflower and a map appeared in the air.

Dean lurched backwards, tumbling over a chair and landing on the floor with a thud.

“I see what happened,” the woman muttered to herself, “I zigged when I should have zagged.” She waved the sunflower again, causing the map to vanish with a ‘pop.’

“Who are you?” Dean growled, as he hoisted himself off the ground.

The woman glanced around the room, “Is this your kingdom?”

“My what now?”

“Your kingdom. Your realm.”

“Ah. No. This is Kansas.”

“So, you’re not a Prince?”

“Far from it.”

The woman studied him thoughtfully, “Well you’re definitely pretty enough to be a Prince,” she said, casting an appraising eye up and down Dean’s form.

Dean lowered his gun, “Are you flirting with me, Ma’am?” he said, a grin stretching across his face.

The woman threw back her head, and chuckled with a sound like wind chimes in a soft breeze. “Well, you are bold enough to be a prince. And you are cute, and very polite… So, if you ever need a Fairy Godmother…”

“A Fairy Godmother?” Dean said, almost choking on a laugh.

“Yes,” she said, and handed Dean a card.

Dean looked at the card in his hand. “Err. You may want to rethink this card.”

“Why?”

“Well, someone could…misunderstand.”

“Could they?” the woman said, with a sparkle in her eye.

“Well, yeah. ‘ _For a happy ending, call 555-FAIRYGM?’”_ Dean said, eyebrow arched. “I mean. Happy ending…?”

The woman smiled, “But, doesn’t everyone love, a happy ending?” and with a wink, she vanished in a spray of glitter.

Dean looked down at the card again, “Well, I guess I can’t argue with that,” he said, and shrugging, slid the card into his pocket, and headed back to bed.

-fin-


End file.
